Versus
by bromer
Summary: This is the beginning of a series of one-shot x versus y. I'd love to take requests, from any universe. Enjoy!
1. Azula vs Ramsay Bolton

Azula's head hurt when she woke up. She couldn't quite remember what she had done the night before to make her head hurt this much. Her training had gone smoothly, not that the fools her father employed could ever really challenge her. It must have still been night, she couldn't see a thing. She exhaled a small burst of fire. She was _not_ in her bed. She was in a small dungeon cell. Even worse, she was completely naked. She flexed her foot; it was chained to the wall. Azula was frustrated. How had she let herself get captured? Where was she? She was going to obliterate the person responsible for this. Surely Zuzu or her fat uncle weren't behind this. Unlikely, they was too incompetent. Plus, this wasn't Zuko's style. He would much rather try to fight her face to face, complaining about his honor the whole time. Neither would he have had her stripped. There were old Fire Nation legends of the first Fire Lords marrying their sisters but it was highly unlikely Zuko wanted to restart that tradition. She saw a light appear in the darkness. A lantern bobbed down a set of stairs.

"I see you're awake," a young man said. Azula was unimpressed with her jailer. He was ugly, big-boned and slope shouldered. His skin was oddly pale and pink. His hair was long and dark, but freely flowing around his shoulders. His lips reminded her nothing more than two crocodile worms. Azula should have killed him right there, but something gave her pause. A look of expectant cruelty in his eyes perhaps. She was not worried about being in any real danger. Even if he was some kind of bender, she doubted he was skilled enough to give her any trouble, even if she was naked and chained to a wall. "What interesting eyes you have." His eyes were small and close-set, and looked like ice Azula had seen that had been peed on by an otter penguin. "Do you know where you are?"

"Ba Sing Se?" she asked. His crocodile worm lips curled in disgust.

"You're in the Dreadfort," he smiled. "What is your name?"  
"Azula of the Fire Nation," she said, waiting for him to recognize her name. When he didn't, she was slightly irritated. Did this peasant think he could imprison Princess Azula and not pay for it with his life? He also did not return the courtesy of giving his name to her.

"We're going to play a game, Azula," he said. Azula now knew how Mai felt all the time: completely and utterly bored.  
"I hope it's not pai sho," she said, suppressing a yawn. "I've never liked that game."  
"Stop blathering, wench," he said. "I'm going to let you go. And you're going to run. If my dogs and I catch you…I'm sure you can fill in the blanks."

"I'm sure I could," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"If you give me good sport, I will name one of my dogs after you," he continued, apparently missing how bored Azula was. She would let him release her, and she would run…for a little bit.

"And what happens if I win?" she asked. He looked taken aback, as if shocked that she wasn't crying or afraid at this point.

"If you win," he whispered, his rank breath hot in her face, "you live." He turned around and strode out. "I'll see you in twenty minutes, Azula of the Fire Nation." When he left, a filthy man hobbled in with a key. She could smell him before she saw him

"Who are you?" she snapped.

"R-r-reek," he said. She could see his teeth had been broken and a few of his fingers had been removed. So crocodile worm lips had been busy before he found her.

"Who is holding me?" she demanded.

"You don't know?" he asked. "This is the Dreadfort."

"What a perfectly stupid name for a fort, you might as well have named it Murdercastle," she said. She could feel her patience running out and she was ready to have her clothes back.

"Don't say that in front of him," Reek urged. "He wouldn't like it."

"Who wouldn't?" she asked.

"Ramsay," he said. "Ramsay- _Bolton_ not _Snow_!" Killing this creature now would be a kindness to him. Ramsay Bolton-not-Snow had clearly done most of the work. Still, he saved her the trouble of undoing her lock.

Ten minutes later, she was still naked, but blinking in the sunlight. It was much, much colder than the Fire Nation ever was. How cold had Zuzu been when he went to the North and South Pole? No matter. She would be warm soon enough. She heard the baying and howling of dogs.

"He normally gives you a half day's start, but you have angered him. Run, m'lady," Reek urged her. She did. The exercise felt wonderful on her stiff joints. The dogs were close behind her. Nine, by the sounds of them. She almost couldn't contain her smile. Suddenly, she leapt up, swinging on to a low branch.

"Azula, did you think you could climb?" Ramsay taunted. She could, she didn't see why he sounded so surprised. Well, now was as good of time as any, she supposed. She dropped down to the ground.

"Do you think you can fight?" he asked, laughing.

"No," she said. She flipped her palms over, exposing the fire she had been cradling. "I know I can fight."

"Is that fire?" he asked stupidly. "How can you do that?"

"I am Princess Azula of the Fire Nation," she said, casually throwing fire through the trees to his left. His dogs whimpered, and some of them ran. "Fire is in my blood." She burned every tree around him now, careful not to burn him. She wanted to see the terror in his face. She wanted to hear him cry out as his dogs ran away from him. She wanted to see those stupid crocodile-worm lips twist in fear and anger as he saw the forest around him burn. Finally, when the trees around him were ashes and he stood alone among the cinders, she came for him.

No, please, don't do this. I'll let you go," he said. A coward to the last. He had stripped her naked and dared to presume she would be afraid. He deserved a special death. She summoned her lightning. He didn't die as slowly as she had hoped. It only took twenty seconds for his coward's heart to cease. Unfortunately, his clothes were too charred for her to take. She was still naked in the forest. She saw a motion in the distance and ran towards it. It was Reek. He looked aghast at the catastrophic damage she had inflicted.

"You…you…you killed him," he said.

"Yes, obviously," she said, showing him her fire. He leapt back.

"How can you do that?" he asked. "How can you make fire?"

I'm a fire bender," she said. For the first time, she felt a twinge of uncertainty. "Don't you have fire benders?" He shook his head. Damn. "Where am I?"

"The North," he said. "Westeros," he amended, when she shook her head. Well, this was unplanned for. She wouldn't conquer Ba Sing Se like she had planned, but she was a princess. She would adapt.

"Give me some clothes," she demanded. He handed her his cloak. This would do for now. "What is your real name?"

"Reek," he said, frightened "Reek, Reek, it rhymes with freak."

"Agni above," she snapped. "Surely your mother did not give you the name _Reek_. What is your _name_?"

"Reek," he said, more insistent this time.

"It is not Reek," she said, again. She wrapped her fire around him, pressing the flames closer to him. "Tell me your _name_."

"Theon Greyjoy," he said.

"Well then, Theon," she said. He was certainly no Mai, or even Ty Lee. But he would do for now. "Where is the capital of this wretched place?"

"King's Landing," he said. "That's where the Iron Throne is." She smiled.

"You will bring me there," she said imperiously. "Do you know what the best part is about iron?"

"You can make swords of it, m'lady?" Theon ventured.

"No," she said. "It melts."

"WINNER: Azula

"LOSER: Ramsay Bolton. (Also Westeros)


	2. Dobby vs Gollum

**Dobby vs Gollum**

Dobby wasn't sure where he was or how he got there. He remembered going to sleep after he had made his nightly preparations for breakfast the next morning. And now he was in an unknown forest. It did not look like anything he had ever seen in Britain. The forest was much older than that surrounding Malfoy Manor. He could feel the magic through the trees, in the grass under his bright orange socks, in the very air he was breathing. There was something moving in one of the bushes.

"Mustn't see the nasty Yellow Face," a voice muttered.

"Who is there?" Dobby cried out.

"Who is there, Precious?" the voice responded. The creature came out of the bushes. It was no taller than Dobby and extremely thin. He (for it was a he) was pale, with a scrawny neck, flat feet, and long thin hands with clammy fingers. He wore only a loin cloth. He was not a house elf, nor a goblin, nor anything else that Dobby knew.

"What is it, Precious?" the creature said. "It is not a goblin or a nasty orcses. What _is_ it?" The creature stared at Dobby with large, pale eyes. Dobby felt fear and revulsion toward the creature, and no small measure of pity.

"Dobby is a house elf," he said.

"An elf!" the creature snarled. "Nasty, nasty elf!" He stopped suddenly and stared at Dobby. "House elf? What is house elf, Precious?"

"Dobby wants to know where he is," he said. Dobby felt like running as fast as he could away from this thing. But he stayed. Harry Potter would be brave and so would Dobby.

"Mirkwood," he said. " _Gollum, Gollum_. More nasty elves around here. We hates this forest. But we must finds it, mustn't we?" Dobby had a feeling that "we" did not refer to himself.

"Dobby asks for your name." The creature jumped slightly, and narrowed its' pale eyes toward Dobby.

"Why does it wants our name, Precious?" he asked, clearly terrified. "From Mordor it is. Working for orcses." He suddenly cowered. "Don't hurt us!"

"Dobby is not going to hurt you," he said, bewildered. "Dobby is lost." Dobby had seen some house elves with even crueler masters than the Malfoys. But even they had never acted like this. If Dobby could speak to Dumbledore, maybe Dumbledore could have helped this wretched creature. As suddenly as the creature had started to cower, he gained an evil look in his eye. He leapt toward Dobby and threw his hands around Dobby's neck. Dobby barely had time to snap his fingers and move away from the creature. He was still in the forest, but far away from whatever that thing was. His ears twitched. He could hear heavy footsteps coming toward him. He sighed. Had he gone from one bad situation to another? At this rate, he would never get back to Hogwarts and nobody would ever clean the Gryffindor Tower. Not with Hermione leaving socks everywhere in a well-meaning, but ultimately distressing, gesture to free the house-elves.

The four creatures that came upon him were much larger than Dobby. They were foul and cruel looking. They were shorter than man-high: with crooked backs and broad, squashed faces with fangs. The leaves of the trees twisted as if to keep themselves as far away from the poisonous air surrounding them. Dobby's magic had always been able to tell him friend from foe and he knew these things would kill him if given even half a chance. They stopped and sniffed the air and looked at him. Oh, what would Harry Potter do?

"That's it!" one roared. "That's the one Lugburz wants."

"Ugly thing," another one sneered. Dobby felt this short, crooked, foul beast had no room to talk.

"Take him!" the first one shouted. Dobby blasted it with a Stunning Spell. He was no wizard. He needed no wand. This was something the Malfoys had never learned. This was something they would learn to regret. He hit it square in the chest. Dobby was kind and gentle. But he knew this thing would not stop until Dobby was dead. The creature would not move again.

He steeled himself for another Stunning Spell to another creature. Before he could, arrows soared through the air, striking two of the creatures down. He quickly blasted the fourth, who had come far too close to him: close enough that he could smell the foul and corrupted magic all around him. He had never smelled magic like that before. Not even from Voldemort, back when he would stay at the Malfoy Manor. What sort of Dark Wizard had permeated these creatures with that stench?

"I have found him!" Dobby's attention snapped from the dead creatures to new creatures, running fleet-footed toward the dead creatures. They were the most beautiful things Dobby had ever seen. While the dead creatures stunk of dark magic, these smelled of green magic: of renewal and light.

"Nay, this is not him," a woman cautioned. "This is…this is something else."

"I is Dobby," Dobby said helpfully. There were three of them: a woman and two men. The men looked as much alike as twins. They were taller than men, and far more graceful.

"How did you kill those two orcs?" one of the men demanded. "We saw you fire a spell, but you cannot be a Wizard."

"No, sir!" Dobby cried earnestly. "Dobby is no Wizard, sir! Dobby is just a house-elf."

"Elf?" the other man said disbelievingly.

"Can elves look like that?" the first man whispered to the woman. She shrugged.

"House-elf," Dobby corrected. "Dobby is very lost and confused, sir. He does not know what these creatures are, or the other creature from before?"

"Pale, nasty creature?" the woman asked. Dobby nodded. "We have been pursuing him? Do you know where he went?"

"No, Dobby is sorry, miss," he said. "He tried to hurt Dobby, so Dobby Apparated away."

"Apparated?" she asked, puzzled. "No," she shook her graceful head, "no, I am afraid Gollum is lost. We have at least killed these foul orcs."

"Lady, what mischief may he bring?" one of the men asked. She looked into the forest. Dobby had thought she was young, but those eyes belonged to a much more ancient creature.

"I fear he will bring us much sorrow. But these orcs have crushed any footprint that creature might have left," she said.

"Where is Dobby?" Dobby asked.

"You are in Mirkwood, friend House-elf," she said with a smile. That did not help Dobby.

"Do you require anything?" the first man asked.

"Dobby would like to go back home to Hogwarts," he said sadly. "But, Dobby thinks he is a long way from Hogwarts."

"I feel magic on you," the woman said.

"Dobby is magic," Dobby said simply.

"We should bring him to our king," one of the men said. "I think he will be very interested in our small friend."

"I think Mithrandir would be interested in meeting an elf who can do magic as he can, with no incantation," the second man said. "Do not be afraid! We mean no harm. Our friends will help you, lost traveler."

"Dobby would be glad to have help," he said. With that, the four elves plunged back into the forest.

" _Filthy elveses_ ," Sméagol muttered. He had watched the orcs fall before the strange creature with magic. He took a nervous glance at the sun, before fading away into the shadows.


End file.
